Wind Walk
by Mountain of Black
Summary: Because there's no other way but up, brother, no other way but up. Big brothers take care of little sisters, not the other way around. You've grown up too fast too early too much - So have I. This is a story of siblings. A story of Life.


**Wind Walk**

**Written by Montez du Noir **

**Author Notes:** Basalt is my real brother. I am Montez du Noir. Send us a PM if you're in the ScytheRO server. No, wait, send it to **me**. Basalt hates talking to strangers.

This multi-chapter story consists of the lives of two siblings. I'm starting it off with a fast-paced oneshot. Humor or tragedy comes later.

Reading everything word-per-word is important in this oneshot. If you're not up to it, well. Your decision.

Later on in the story there will be something mentioned about the Bionac and the Soul Strike. Mind you, that was entirely fictional and made to enhance the drama. Yes, you can kill Biolab clones with the Soul Strike in-game.

_Italics: Flashbacks/thoughts/Spells_

**Bold: Morals/Punchlines**

**Note: The lack of punctuations and spacing in the italics section were done deliberately to portray the (usually panicked_ToofastTooquick_) flow of human thought. **

* * *

**Chapter One**

**Up**

**(Because there's no other way.)**

He was bleeding on the floor and his ribcage was flaming with pain. His hair was singed with ash and his leg was broken in two places. It hurt to breathe and moving would mean excruciating agony. His back was bent uncomfortably, restrained by his back braces but cramped by the small area he was stuck in. _He can't move_. His head was screaming. It was going _Oh God it hurts ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts too much too much thankyou I'm alive I'm alive I'm alive must escape_ can't move.

And directly in front of him, hovering above him was the ghostly form of the clone Seyren Windsor. The failed human experiment gazed at him with crazed eyes, shocking white hair sticking up around his head. Armor was around the clone's being, blood and gashes and hands and eyes and _spit _and_flesh. _Sweat ran down both their faces but _oh God make it stop _it hurts more as it seeps through his cut skin. The clone's rotting body smelled of rank acid and left a bitter taste in his mouth _Oh God I can't breathe Hurts too much Owowowow._

He held his breath as the grinning dark clone's sword fell down towards him, downdowndown too fast and too quick, and it was getting nearer to his head _he closes his eyes _nearnearnear too fast and _Maybe it's good that I died No more pain But I still haven't gotten that Rudras Bow I wanted since I was younger Too early Must be dead by now Mama is that you Waitwaitwait where is she I can't leave yet Where is she --_

But then the Seyren Windsor clone froze, expression showing nothing but shock, and Basalt felt himself smirk slowly as his gaze drifted to the clone's chest. The jagged edges of a multi-pronged spear peeked through a yawning _bleedingbleedingbleeding_hole in its torso._ Relief. _Seyren Windsor's body fell limp, and then was tossed up into the air _(he looks like a rag doll from here It's almost pretty) _to the corner of the room, off the spear. He watched the corpse_ soarsoarsoar_ make a graceful arc in the air, tattered cape fluttering softly as the corpse fell, head thrown back and fingers splayed (_looklooklook there's a big hole that sliced a big chunk of the esophagus out. It's kinda cool_.) Then Basalt's amber brown eyes fell to rest on the tip of the spear, and there was _bloodbloodblood a bit of skin and is that saliva _stuck to it.

With a sickening _(relieving)_ crunch, Seyren's limp body slammed to the wall and slid down to the floor.

**Self-preservation comes first.**

"_O le Seigneur, guérissez-moi, car mes os sont dans le tourment._" (1)

Greenish light flooded the corners of his eyes, and Basalt had to blink rapidly as the same spell was performed thrice. Exhaling and forcing his shoulders to relax, he moved to inspect his leg. It can move. He wasn't bleeding and his ribs felt better. His head was still shrieking but this time it was going _Oh God, thank you thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou. She's alive._

A loud clank of metal resounded somewhere beside him, and a dull silver gauntlet appeared under his nose. "Oi. You alright?"

There was a strong scent of copper in the air.

Basalt took a few seconds to look at the gauntlet. (_It's here it'shereit'shere She's here Is it real?) _Used to be silver, now tinged with gray. Gashes here and there, gold paint is still holding fine, and _that's blood all over her clothes, that's blood but it's not hers and that's good._

**Humans care more for things they are somehow related with.**

He followed the gauntlet up, up, up, and his eyes met their twin sets. (_You're here you're here you're here Are you real?) _He held on to the proffered hand fast, then together they heaved the fallen arrow-wielder up. Unlike his sibling, he wore lightweight, protective garments while the other was half-buried in tough, metal plates. This made him a lot easier to help up.

As Basalt wobbled on slightly unsteadied feet, the ebony-haired Montez du Noir strode over to the corner of the room and fetched her brother's fallen Double-Slicing-Bloody-Boned Composite Bow, casually swinging an arm to collect the straps of his six quiver sets. She walked back to her sibling with a gait showing her experience with the unnatural mound of armor, fluidly moving without the awkwardness of a robot. She was clad in a monotone pattern of black and white, save for the tarnished golden edges of her armor. The Gaebolg, the spear she had used to rid of Seyren Windsor, hung from her back by a strap on its suit. Beside it hung her Bionac, a spear able to pierce souls. On two belts around her waist rested her Schwartseinbagel dress sword – a sword with the ability to call forth the power of lightning, and her Nagan blade. A wide shield was clamped on her back while another, this one made out of stone, was strapped around her arm.

Basalt watched his younger sister. (_You're all grown up So many weapons You've grown up too fast too early too much. So have I.)_

Meanwhile, Basalt was garbed in a blue fur-edged vest, long fur-edged shorts and high fur-edged boots. His wrists were equally covered with fur-tipped armguards and a thimble to aid his archery. Here and there his garb was tipped with white, blending with his array of spiked silver locks. Retrieving his Composite Bow from his sister along with his Crystal, Silver, Wind, Shadow, Stone, and Immaterial arrow quivers, he shouldered the quivers after picking three arrows from each, nestling them in a small pouch strapped to his belt for easy access. He did not return his bow to its case, however, to which reason Montez unsheathed her Nagan and held it firmly.

Both turned their gaze to the fallen corpse, but it did not move. Their grips did not relax.

**Always be alert.**

Basalt flashed a grin. "Thanks." Montez waved a hand dismissively.

"Welcome." She was looking at him with those twin eyes (_we look the same thesamethesame. We're not the same Not twins)_, and he could feel the her anxiety _(theirs)_ in the atmosphere. He's choking on an invisible string of thought and he's _drowningdrowningdrowning_ in judgment. He didn't want the questions _no, I don't like answering even if I always did in class_ but it's coming and he has to hear it anyway. He listens to his sister's voice, and she unfailingly starts her inquiries.

_(He remembers their school days and when they proudly proclaimed its coda: "I am a child of Inquiry. I aim for the understanding that gives life to knowledge I gladly offer my works to school family and country This is my pledge as a scholar of Yuno Let it be the day I die the day I betray my kind)_

"You don't usually get hit like this." She's talking_ talkingtalkingasking too much_ and Basalt has to listen because he's the big brother and _big brothers are patient like that_. She continues.

"You're faster.

"That clone was already damaged even before you attacked it.

"It was only one clone."

(_The blood you lost won't come back in a long while even if I healed you, and you're in no condition to fight, but I doubt you'd listen to me anyway so I won't ask just pleasepleaseplease take care of yourself.)_

"There was more than just him a while ago," Basalt started as an explanation, brushing his silver hair away from his attempt at reassuring eyes. _Don't worry don't worry don't worry don't worry Big brothers take care of little sisters not the other way around._ "The Kathryne Keyron clones were casting Jupitel Thunder like crazy. Didn't have a chance to switch arrows fast enough between their spells, let alone be able to shoot anything. Kept me pinned here until I was able to pick them away. Then Seyren came." _I'm not weak Just got more than what I can handle It was tough You weren't there to watch my back I waited for you I prayed that you'd come. You have no idea what it felt like. You forgot me._

"Ah. So sad for you, then," Montez commented off-handedly. Her words were automatic; that was the situation and there's nothing more to it. It happened and it's not happening again so it's nothing.

(_I was getting pummeled by Eremes Guile clones a while ago I was there I was watching your back I couldn't get to you I almost got my arm chopped off because I was looking for you I wasn't paying attention to the fight I was worried You could have died You have no idea how it felt. I couldn't help you. But you'd just think I'm making excuses so I won't tell you. I'm sorry.) _

She looked off to the opening of the room – which, Basalt later noted, was a holding cell – and asked _(said)_, "You ready to go now?"

Basalt set an arrow on the bow. _You're still alive I'm more mad that I couldn't keep an eye on you Don't ever forget about me again At least you pulled through at the last minute. Thank you._ "Yeah." _I'm sorry. _

_Big brothers take care of little sisters, not the other way around._

**People worry because they care. They also care because they worry.**

This was deepest, dankest area of the Lighthalzen Biolabs. The siblings had been drafted as part of the party which will take charge in clearing away the failed experiments a few days ago, by Rekenber Corporation. They volunteered, expecting nothing but curious of everything.

_(We had no idea of what we were dealing with.)_

At the first glance one would think that it was a well-kept facility, complete with sofas, sliding doors, test caskets, warning signs like usual laboratories have. But the longer you stay, the deeper you go, the scent of urine, saliva, and blood fills the air. It smelled like mud.

The strangest thing was that there was no vomit. (_It would have completed the set of horribly disgusting things to be found in a laboratory, you know.)_

There were rooms everywhere. All of them had tables _or what was left of them_ but their content varied and _did you know that those aren't actually tables, brother, but rather experiment tablets where people strap animals on and dissect them? Just like frogs. Just dissecting Just like experiments_. Some had test tubes and beakers and tongs, some had handcuffs and sawdust and nails and hair and skulls and saliva and urine and excretions and _oh God, the blood the blood the blood_.

The air was damp, stagnant. No fresh air. No way to get fresh air, either. No way to filter the air. No way to _anything _the air. The gas masks lying around were stained with saliva, so nobody would be able to use them even if they tried. They'd most likely get an infection or die by the poison.

(_Neither of them stopped the others from trying them on, anyway.)_

The saliva wasn't normal. (_The laboratory isn't normal.)_

They were sticky and viscous and green and _bloody_, and it was very hard to scrape off. When you threw it at something it'd stick like glue – Basalt guesses that somehow the ones who wore the gas masks were killed by this, the saliva gluing their mouths shut, their nose canals, their inner intestines and _that's why there was no vomit, you know, they couldn't puke anything out_. They weren't able to breathe or eat or smell or _see_. There was probably a bacteria in the air that would have affected them. That bacteria might still _probably_ be around the air and would have infected them_ (his sister) _as well and slowly killed them _(his sister) _if not for Montez' ability to heal them _(us)._

However, Montez says, the reprieve from the bacteria won't last long, because _my healing abilities just prevent it from spreading, but it's there It's there It's theretherethere I can't remove it We'regonnadiediedie We need a Biochemist for this A doctor A surgeon We'll die._

_(We won't.)_

There were children in the laboratory_ but they're not notnotnot not children not animals not people nonono_. Not adults,_children_. Not teenagers,_ children_. Children whose skin were unnaturally pale and eyes unnaturally red and who were unnaturally strong and unnaturally bloodthirsty and unnaturally _holy, that's a kid wielding a battle axe It hurts We're gonna die It's too strong!_

It was then that they realized that the Biolab was actually a place that experiments on humans.

Bio._Life._ Lab. _Laboratory. _

_(Would it have made a difference if they did this to plants or animals instead?)_

_(Yes._ No._ Noyesnoyesnoyesnoyesnoyesnoyesno. I don't know. Eeny weeny miney moe. It doesn't go anywhere near No. Catch a tiger by the toe. It doesn't go anywhere near Yes now.)_

The children they had met were inanely powerful, merciless and almost soul-less. The pleasure on their faces increased every time they deal damage on a human (_they're not _people_ not animals not humans not anything None)_, and they would crow happily when one dies. Their rage would intensify along with their strength as they are hit, and when they die they release a horrid _human humanhumanhuman REAL _scream that would send shivers down a grown bounty hunter's spine. Their round, innocent eyes were narrowed unnaturally, teeth like razors in the bright light of the Laboratory. Fighting with them was something akin to fighting someone of an experienced adventurer's stage_ (That's because the humanity's drained from them They're nothing nothingnothingnothing Nothing but animals Bloodthirsty vicious animals.)._

_(Who did this?) _

_(I don't know.) _

_(It doesn't make sense. No sense No sense No sense Complete nonsense To make humans like that They'rejustchildren Inhumane.)_

**Humanity is important.**

_(It's my dream, you know. Just think about it, brother! Perfect humans! Perfect!) _

_(I don't believe in a perfect _human.)

_It was a dreamdreamdreamjustadream_, Montez would chant, head dizzy with conscience and cheek sprinkled with blood. She watches the unfortunate child slide off the end of her blade but her gaze stays locked to the blood staining the linoleum floor. Basalt finishes off another in the distance and she can't see his face because there's too much blood covering it. _I didn'tdidn'tnoseriouslyIdidn't want to do something like this._

She remembers a time back then, when she wanted to be a biochemist. Those were times when _Mum was still alive She supported us She helped us I wouldn't have had to drop out of school.  
_

He felt like it was murder – initially, Basalt didn't want to be drafted, but his sister did and he's got to protect her because he promised and he's a man of his word and he's got no choice and he's stuck he's stuck he's stuck he can't betray her and_ Mother, are you still proud of me Is this wrong Aren't they just animals now so it doesn't make a difference Did I do something wrong Is this what you wanted?_

_They're supposed to be just animals now,_ Montez told him once, just to sate his soul and ease his spirit,_because they're just bodies. They don't have souls anymore. My Bionac can't hit them when it uses the Soul Strike You know the Soul Strike is only applicable with _souls_ They're dead They've already been killed They're just clones of a dead body. What if I slowly changed every body part I had into a robot's, will you think that I stopped being human?_

He had no answer to that, so instead Basalt brought himself out of his reverie and shot an arrow into a Cecil Damon clone's heart. She had been aiming at his sister's back.

**Human life is precious.**

Montez' eyes widened a fraction (_You have to be related to her to notice that, __have to have the same eyes The same face The same blood) _and she turned, watching the Cecil clone's eyes roll back to the back of her head. The clone collapses, and Montez' eyes narrowed again.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

_(You were watching my back. I almost died It's too early for me to die I still have a lot of things to do I can't die I couldn't I shouldn't I mustn't Thank you I owe you a lot ThankyouthankyouthankyouohGodthankyou Thank you.)_

_(I promised to take care of you. You wouldn't die I know you still have stuff to do. I'll take care of you I'll protect you I promised I promised You're welcome.)_

**Too many words just complicate things.**

They walked out of the room (holding cell), and almost immediately a Howard Alt-Eisen clone attacked. Montez called dibs on him, and attacked. Basalt was too preoccupied with shooting down a Margaretha Sorin, releasing a flurry of shadow arrows towards the nun. He didn't reply and Montez was afraid – for half-a-second – that he got hit again, but she's still hearing the snapping of his bowstring so she shouldn't be worried and _Howard clones have unbelievably big hammers._

It was _just _half-a-second.

Montez hits the wall and for a second, she sees stars. She tried to stand, but found that she had been hit at a pressure point that renders her immobile. Howard was getting nearer, but Montez refused to go down that quickly because _there's no other way than Up, brother. There's no other way that I'd fail; I never do. I couldn't._

"_Le Seigneur met l'épée dans mes mains_." (2) she shakily mutters, lifting her sword and straining her arm. (_There's no other way but Up.)_ Three blades of light appear, immediately striking at the clone with deadly accuracy. For a second the clone stands frozen, but he falls down with an insane cackle. She sees three gaping holes through his torso _(sliced the kidney clean off, cut through the bone. Missed the heart by three inches, but got the liver. The last one almost sawed the arm off)_, and Montez wonders _do monsters bleed?_

And at an ironic push of the moment she remembers a song. _This is the scent of dead skin on the linoleum floor_…and she doubts the singers actually knew what they were talking about.

Howard is bleeding. (_She can't move.)_

Basalt backed up to her, shooting an arrow towards an Eremes Guile, who drops dead. He was covered with gashes and bruises but it's nothing that Montez can't heal. Now only if she can recover and move. _If she ever does._

_(Don't leave me here.)_

It would be an impossible attempt to pull Montez to safety with all the weight _(the armor's too heavy She's too bony)_ so the best he could do was to stay around until the effect wore off. His mind drifts off to remember the party they came with. He hasn't seen them anywhere.

(_Have they died yet?)_

Montez was asking the same question, mentally.

He's tired and weary and bleeding, and Montez can't heal him (_yet)_. So he sits and waits and readies his bow, listens to his knees crack noisily as he kneels. They sit in silence and listen to the steady_clankclankclankboom_ of the machines in the lab, and it occurs to Montez that they don't hear voices anymore.

(_They must be dead by now.)_

"We should call it quits," Basalt said absent-mindedly. _You're impaired and you're in no condition to fight, I doubt you'd listen to me anyway but if there's a chance you would I'll ask I'll ask I'll ask I'll ask and wait._ "We can go home. I have some Butterfly Wings here."

"No." It hurt to talk.

"Why?"_ We're slowing down We're getting weaker We're in no good condition Stupid bacteria._

"No…way."

Silence. Basalt pauses in thought.

"Alright."

**There's no other way but Up.**

Later, as they pass their _deaddeaddead_ teammate's corpses (_skin was being eaten away by bacteria, the eye sockets and nostrils dripped with pus, _saliva_ was netted in their hair and _mouths_and oh God the bloodbloodblood_saliva they _don't _doubt that they'll make it out alive.

**Up.**

Fin.

* * *

1 French translation from Psalm 6:3, "O Lord, heal me, for my bones are in torment." It is used as a Healing Spell, spells only accessible for people blessed with the Holy Power. 

2 French translation of "The Lord puts the sword in my hands."

Character notes: In Ragnarok, Basalt is a Sniper (the Reborn form of Hunter, which is one of the Elite forms of Archer), and Montez du Noir is a Crusader (Holy Warrior, one of the Elite forms of Swordsman). Basalt is the elder brother, Montez is the younger sister.

Author's Notes: **Montez du Noir and Basalt are real characters with respective players. **They play in the ScytheRO server. If you belong in this same server, **feel free to give Montez du Noir a PM.**** Basalt doesn't like talking to strangers**. Their **In Game Names** are **Montez du Noir** and **Basalt**.

Yes, I am a shameless attention monger and character advertiser.


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